


The Golden Lion of Alba

by DarthImperius



Series: DarthImperius's Plot Bunny stories [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Gen, Nobility, Plot Bunny, Royalty, Wizarding World
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-24 12:22:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10741614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthImperius/pseuds/DarthImperius
Summary: The blood of conquest flows in the veins of old House Potter, the red flowing since the downfall of the druids more than a thousand years ago. Now, from the throne at the Heartlands, the remnants of the Potters rule over the Isles, seeking nothing but the survival of the bloodline, and that of the kingdom itself.





	The Golden Lion of Alba

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling

**_ Warning: _ **

Before you begin to read this, there are a few things you need to be aware of:

  * This story is a “plot bunny story”. I’m only writing it because it’s something that has been on my mind for a while and I needed to free the idea somehow. This means that I can abandon the story without any warning. Heck, this could even be the only chapter of the “story” I will write.


  * While the “story” continues to follow what can be considered the “superficial canon” of Harry Potter (that is, the basic plot), it takes place in an entirely alternate universe. While the dates haven’t been changed (Harry is still born in 1980), the story setting is somewhat late medieval/renaissance, both in the “muggle” and “wizard” worlds. Certain concepts were adapted from several franchises (such as The Elder Scrolls, Dragon Age and A Song of Fire and Ice) in order to create this “new world”.


  * Many deviations will happen here, and as in my other stories (most of them), there will be no romance involved in the plot (excluding established ones and backstory romance, such as that of James and Lily). Another thing you should be aware of is the change in what a muggle and a wizard is on this AU. In this story, everyone is born capable of doing magic, but only those with enough money are capable of both obtaining the apparatus necessary for the practice of magic, and attaining a good enough magical education. The term muggle is given to those who cannot do such a thing, while a muggle-born is this world’s variant of “nouveau riche”, those without noble blood who have gained enough money to be able to practice magic. I may eventually make a few alterations to how this works, but for now this is the general idea of how magic works here.



* * *

 "Normal Speech"

_"Thoughts"_

* * *

**_Chapter 1 – Lord Harry of House Potter _ **

**Guildford Castle, Anglia**

One could say that the day was not exactly pleasant, and such was the opinion of young Henry Potter, commonly known as Harry by many people. The stone walls of the keep were wet with rain, and the outside was virtually deserted. Harry watched as the rain fell, distracted from the voice of his instructor.

“My Lord… my Lord! I’m sure that the rain is rather interesting, but your education is far more important!” said the old man.

Harry snapped out of his observations and turned towards his instructor, sitting right in front of him.

“Sorry,” mumbled Harry.

The old man simply sighed. “Now, what was the name of the dark wizard who was defeated by Albus Dumbledore decades ago?”

“Gellert Grindelwald.”

“And what happened to Grindelwald?”

“He was… killed?”

“He was imprisoned in Nurmengard, where he remains to this day,” corrected his instructor, unimpressed by Harry’s mistake. “See what staring at rain instead of paying attention does?”

Harry grumbled something unintelligible before being startled by the sudden opening of the door to his chamber.

“You are dismissed magister,” said the newcomer.

The old man turned towards the woman, before bowing. “Very well, my Lady.”

The man quickly left the room, leaving Harry alone with the woman. Harry turned towards her, his aunt, Petunia Evans, Lady of Guildford and a minor vassal of Alfred Abbot, the Lord Palatine of Anglia. For some reason, he had been sent to his aunt after the death of his parents, instead of being sent to his grandfather in the Heartlands, and he had spent the last decade living with his aunt, uncle, and cousin.

“Is there something wrong?” he asked. It was not usual for his aunt to interrupt these sessions.

“No,” replied Petunia. “But a letter has come for you.”

That was even more odd. Why on earth would his aunt bother with a letter sent to him?

“From Hogwarts,” she continued, as if reading his thoughts.

Harry snorted. “Hogwarts? I thought uncle Vernon didn’t want me to go to Hogwarts.”

“He may not want it, but Vernon has no say on your education,” replied Petunia. “These matters fall to his Grace, the King.”

Harry frowned. For someone he never met, his grandfather certainly had a lot of say on his life. But he was the king, and the king’s word was law, no matter what anyone thought.

“You have also been summoned to Edinburgh” declared his aunt. “The king expects your arrival in the next three weeks.”

This day was full of surprises. First, a letter concerning his education at Hogwarts, and now being summoned by the king himself.

“You will depart tomorrow, by floo,” she affirmed. “Make sure your things are prepared.”

She departed the room without a further word, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts. He would finally be leaving the backwater that was Guildford for the capital, but he was not sure of what to expect there, especially since he would very likely be meeting his grandfather. He had never seen the old man before, but simply heard stories about him, such as how he personally led the charge against the stronghold of House Lestrange during Voldemort’s Uprising and captured the keep.

Unfortunately, no matter how good the old man was with his magical abilities, he has not able to prevent Voldemort from breaching Dunnottar Castle, where he and his parents had been hiding. Oddly enough, the dark wizard had been destroyed when his own spell backfired, allowing for Harry’s survival. After that, he had been shipped off to his aunt, and the rest was history.

“Why now?” mumbled Harry. “What does he want with me now?”

The old man mattered little to him, being more of a distant relative he had never met before. Truly, even his dead parents mattered more to him than his living grandfather. Still, the old man was the king.

And the king’s word was law.

* * *

**Castle Rock, Edinburgh, The Heartlands**

Travelling by floo was somewhat unpleasant, leaving behind a burning stench that other people could not smell, but was strong enough for the traveller to sense it for several minutes. And for Harry, who had travelled by floo for the first time in his entire life, the experience had not been fun. Neither had been falling as soon as he had arrived. The room he had arrived was rather well lit by a combination of four torches and five small windows. Inside were only two guards, which had been surprised by Harry’s sudden appearance and subsequent fall. They approached him, their wands ready for any possible attack. However, when Harry got up and his face became fully visible, the guards realized the very possible identity of the child in front of them.

“You…you’re Lord Henry Potter, right?” asked one of the guards.

“Yes,” said Harry while trying to remove the dust from his clothes. “This is Castle Rock, right?”

They nodded. “Yes, my Lord.”

“Can any of you announce my arrival? I was summoned here without any instructions.”

One of the guards quickly left the chamber, and Harry followed the man. Once outside, he saw that he had been inside a very small building, apparently used only for the floo. Around him, however, was the rest of the fortress. A clear feature which identified the location was the abundance of banners, each with the Lion Rampant of Albion, once the dynastic emblem of the Irvings, now belonging to their successors, the Potters.

“My Lord, this way,” said the guard.

Harry nodded, following the armoured man into the keep. Not many people were in the halls, although they did pass by servants and other guards. Soon enough, Harry reached an antechamber with two guards on each side of a large door, and an old man sitting behind a table.

“Lord Herald, the prince has arrived,” announced the guard.

“What? The prince?” said the man looking at the two, realizing Harry’s presence. “Oh, your highness! We had not been expecting you to arrive so early. Guard, thank you for escorting the prince here. Do return to your post now.”

The man nodded, leaving the antechamber.

“You arrived at a quite good moment, your highness. The Wizengamot is currently in session, and it provides a good opportunity to introduce you to the most powerful nobles of the kingdom,” affirmed the Lord Herald, who grabbed a quill and began to write something on a parchment.

Harry watched in silence as the old man wrote, wondering what he was doing. After a while, the man stopped and got up, before approaching the door. Taking out his wand, the man tapped the door three times, each time producing a sound similar to someone slamming the door with something large.

 _“I wonder what spell that is…”_ thought Harry.

The two doors were opened, allowing Harry to glance into a large hall with several people inside. The old man entered the first, the people inside looking at him, wondering why the session had been interrupted.

“Announcing the arrival of His Royal Highness, Prince Henry James of House Potter, Lord Palatine of Alba and the Northern Isles,” spoke the Lord Herald as he read from the parchment.

And then he entered, allowing him to clearly observe the throne room, and to be observed in return. He recognized no one inside, but these people seemed to be surprised enough by his appearance. He looked up at the dais, where the throne was, and also where his grandfather was sitting. He was not sure of what he had been expecting. Perhaps a jolly fat man? A strong and muscular lord?

Fleamont Potter was neither.

The king was a thin and gaunt man, with long hair and a equally long beard, both greyed with age. The robes he wore hid away most of his appearance, but it was not enough. At best, his grandfather looked like some sort of diseased man, his expression reflecting some lingering madness or another mental illness. But if there was something he had been taught during these last few years, and which he had not forgotten, was that one should not judge a book by its cover, and there must have been a reason for why his grandfather had this frail physique, considering the stories he heard of the battles he waged.

“Approach and kneel,” ordered Fleamont.

Harry did so, kneeling before the dais and ignoring those who stared at him.

“You arrived quickly,” commented the king. “Why?”

“Because Lady Evans wished it so, your Grace,” he responded.

“And since when does a prince… a Lord Palatine, even, follow the wishes of a minor lord, eh?” asked Fleamont.

Harry gulped. He did not know what to answer, his breathing becoming more accelerated with nervousness.

“I…I…” he mumbled, seeking an answer.

“Because she is your aunt, and you her ward,” affirmed the king. “I had been expecting you to know the rules of etiquette, but it seems your lessons have not been completed.”

“No, your Grace,” replied Harry. And it was true. His old instructor has not finished the lessons.

There was a moment of silence, in which no one spoke. It was quickly broken by Fleamont.

“You are all dismissed!”

The sound of chairs moving and people walking quickly towards the exit was all Harry heard, before returning to the silence which had previously filled the throne room. He glanced at his grandfather, noticing that the old king had gotten up from the throne and was slowly heading towards him.

“Rise,” he ordered, to which Harry obeyed.

His chin was grabbed by Fleamont, how made Harry look directly at him. The king’s eyes were brown, but at close Harry could see as if some sort of…white cloth was in front of them. Could it be that…?

“You have your father’s face… but the eyes are your mother’s.”

Harry gave a silent gasp, never having heard someone describe the looks of his parents. That is, if his grandfather’s statements were to be trusted through. Still, wasn’t the old mans supposed to be…?

“You must have many questions, and they will be answered,” affirmed the old man. “But for now, I will only tell you this. You will not return to Guildford, at least as your residence. Castle Rock will serve that purpose now, at least until you come of age and go to Aberdeen to take full responsibility over the ruling of your palatinate. When I die, Castle Rock will serve that purpose once more, hopefully until the end. Is that understood?”

“Yes, your Grace.”

“You will travel this afternoon to Diagon Alley, in London, where you shall get your own wand. The servants shall take care of the other… items required for your education at Hogwarts,” he continued.

Harry nodded, finding something strange about the king’s posture, but not saying anything.

“You may go now,” said Fleamont. “Speak with the herald outside. He will inform you of where you will be staying.”

“Yes sir,” replied Harry, who watched as the old man left the throne room into a door on the wall behind the throne.

Harry took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. This encounter had been anything but pleasant, and had given him a few questions which needed answers. But if his grandfather kept his word, then he would eventually get answers. Until then, he could only wait. Still, no reason to keep idle.

He had to speak with the Lord Herald.

* * *

 

**_Author’s Note: _ **

While in real-life Castle Rock is the name of the hill where the actual Edinburgh Castle is located, I decided to give the fortress the name of its location in the story.

* * *

**_The Encyclopaedia: _ **

**House Irving** – Once a minor wizard family hailing from Alba, the Irvings rose to power by leading the revolt against the tyrannical druids, and claimed lordship over the Isles once the conflict was over. The marriage of Princess Elizabeth Irving to Lord Palatine Nicholas Potter led to the eventual inheritance of the throne to their son Malcolm, who reigned over the isles as Malcolm III after the death of his parents. The death of Elizabeth made House Irving extinct, but their bloodline survives to this day in House Potter.

 **House Potter** – The current ruling house of the Isles, the Potters has their origins in the humble wizard Linfred of Stinchcombe, a man who came into the favour of House Irving after creating a potion which managed to save the king’s life. As a result, Linfred was rewarded with a title and lands to go with it. His son Hardwin came to increase the power and prestige of the Potters, and was eventually given the newly created title and position of Lord Palatine of Alba, ruling over the vast majority of the northern territory of the Isles. They came to rise further in power and influence with the marriage of Princess Elizabeth to Lord Palatine Nicholas, who co-reigned as monarchs after the death of Elizabeth’s father. Nowadays, House Potter continues to be sovereign over the Isles, with Fleamont Potter as the king, and his grandson Harry (or Henry) as the heir.

 **Palatinate** – The name given to a region ruled by an hereditary noble. In the Isles, there are a total of eleven palatinates: Alba, the Heartlands (belonging to the king), Northumbria, the Midlands, Cambria, Dumnonia, Wessex, Anglia, Kent, Lower Lerne, and Upper Lerne.


End file.
